


my affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you shall silence me on this subject forever.

by onlyGodcanstopme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angry Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Castiel is sad, Depressed Castiel (Supernatural), Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Newly Human Castiel (Supernatural), Slow Burn, Will Add More, Wuthering Heights References, a lot of longing, cannon is a pick n mix, first chapter is a bit heavy but it WILL be funnier, loosely based on pride and prejudice, not really tho its more dean's self worth but maybe homophobia?? not explicit tho, unbeta'd im new
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:42:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onlyGodcanstopme/pseuds/onlyGodcanstopme
Summary: “ Looking at Cas was the grandeur of religion. The fresh green splendour of a tree in a forgotten forest. Looking down at the Grand Canyon and knowing that it was infinitely more vast, more great, infinitely more complex, and infinitely more phenomenal than you could begin to imagine.”After being tricked by Metatron, Cas is living in the bunker with Dean, Sam, and Kevin. Dean can't be around Cas, and Cas thinks Dean hates him. Hopefully through chores, cases, classic lit, and a little help from their friends, these two idiots can work out their miscommunication habit.((I haven't been active in fandom at all in 5 years, just here for the vibes.))
Relationships: Castiel & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 10
Kudos: 13





	1. truth universally acknowledged

The rain was starting to drip down the back of his neck. The sky had turned a beautiful blur of ebony and charcoal, a brutal storm gathering. The doorstep felt like a block of ice on his thighs. The cold had creeped into his skin now, seeping into his bones; water pooling inside his t-shirt making him shiver. He supposed it was better to feel this frostbitten ache though, than his unattainable longing.

“Cas!” a familiar voice called from the doorway, “Have you been out here all day? I haven’t seen you in a while. It’s well past nine now”  
Cas turned to look up at Sam, the rain dripping from his hair and running into the crease of his eye.  
“I didn’t realise it had been that long, Sam, I apologise. Time seems to pass differently…” he gestured listlessly to his body, “…now.”

Sam looked up at the darkening sky, and then back at Cas with a look of pity, “Well, just head in soon, you’ll catch your death out here.” He turned to head inside and, with a kind face, added “And let me know how you find it.”  
Cas stroked the now soaked spine of Wuthering Heights in his lap and smiled sadly back at him as the taller man walked back inside.

_Screaming pain. White light. Flying! ....Falling. Dust, Heat.  
He looked toward the sky.  
“I’m Sorry!” He cried, voice thick with anguish, harsh loneliness and guilt. _

_On his knees in the dry, hot soil, he prayed._

Life had changed for Cas in the past few months, more than he wanted to think about. Becoming human had changed him. Remembering to eat, sleep, bathe, hydrate…. he was not highly successful at any of his ‘human’ tasks. Adjusting was still proving difficult. He’d been dizzy from dehydration long before he realised he was thirsty; his stomach had clung to his spine before he realised he needed to eat; his eyes would glaze over before he’d realise he hadn’t slept in days.

The bunker’s residents were helping some. He kept finding stray glasses of water in his room, extra blankets outside his door, granola bars labelled ‘Cas’ in the kitchen.

Mostly though, everyone stayed out of his way.

As an angel, Cas hadn’t cared if people avoided him; he was the one doing the avoiding. When he wanted a conversation to end, he left. He had never craved company before, or really been lonely. He was a celestial being and that was enough… for the most part. Now though, Cas wanted desperately to be alone, and had never felt more lonely.

 _Sam_ avoiding him he didn’t mind- he could tell Sam didn’t like the shallow grief Cas was wallowing in but recommended books for him to read when he could. Kevin was giving him space, but did make him poptarts (very sweet but quite pleasant) and coffee (bitter but bracing) if they were in the kitchen at the same time.

Dean though, Dean hurt the most.  
After Cas fell, he had wandered three days in endless mazes of crops near the ends of the earth, otherwise known as Texas. By the time he reached a dried-up farmhouse, he looked like he’d been dragged through Hell, and felt it too (and he would know). Perhaps this was why when he begged the homeowners to use their phone, they’d eyed him suspiciously, given him an old cell phone and sent him to their barn.

Hearing Dean’s muffled voice through the crackles of the dodgy cell reception had made his heart drop to his stomach and flutter there.  
_“Dean”  
“Cas! Man, I thought you had died or been ganked or- You don’t know how good it is to hear your voice”  
Cas desperately tried to blink away the tears pooling in his eyes.  
“Where are you, man? I’ll come find you.”_

Thinking about those days wouldn’t improve things now though. Cas shook his head to get the worst of the rain off and made his way inside, his teeth chattering.

-

Dean couldn’t talk to Cas anymore. He just couldn’t. Each time he looked at him, his hair stood up on end, his blood pressure raised about a million percent and his chest tightened. He couldn’t look at him the same after that night. He would never look at him the same.  
So, he’d just never look at him.

He walked into the kitchen and saw his gangly mop of a brother sitting at the table scanning the paper. He looked up at Dean as he ambled through the door, his face creasing irritatingly with concern.  
“I just found Cas sitting outside in the rain.”  
“So?” Dean snorted, reaching for the coffee jug.  
“So it’s _November_ , Dean. He’s going to catch hypothermia. It’s practically suicidal at this point”  
“Not my fuckin’ problem is it?”  
“You don’t mean that” Sam sighed, turned back to his paper.  
“How do you fuckin’ know?” Dean mumbled to himself, grabbing two mugs. He opened the cupboards, finding only a half loaf of bread, a can of mushroom soup, and a jar of jelly. “We need to get groceries. Who even eats mushroom soup? Fuckin’ rabbit food”  
“Maybe you should take Cas shopping”  
“No”  
“I’m sure he wouldn’t be nearly as depressed if you could be in the same room as him for like, two seconds”  
“He’s not depressed, asshat”  
“How would you know?! You haven’t even seen him in two months now!” Sam exploded.

Dean slammed his hands on the counter, causing the mugs to crash to the floor, “Dammit, Sammy, I’m not talking about this!”.  
He picked the mugs up again, suddenly embarrassed by his outburst. He put a slice of bread in the toaster and lifted out the jelly.  
“When do you ever?” Sam grumbled behind his paper, huffing.

-

The shower was burning hot against Cas’ frozen skin, and it took him three tries to even get in. He lathered his body with the honey body wash that had appeared in his room, revelling in the gentle comfort of the smell and softness against his sore skin. Before he got out, he stood with the warm water droplets beating his face, wondering if any amount of scrubbing could make his hands clean again. So much death rested on his shoulders, so much destruction…

_KNOCK KNOCK_

Quickly jolted from his thoughts, he jumped out the shower and towelled off. Rushing to the door, he opened it to see… no one.

On the floor sat a mug of steaming coffee and a plate with toast and jelly. Cas melted a little. He hadn’t realised he was hungry, having missed dinner to read outside. He made a mental note to thank Sam, or maybe Kevin, and grabbing his small present, he settled into bed. As he pulled the covers around himself, he took comfort in the fact that even if Dean couldn’t stand Castiel’s existence, Sam and Kevin cared whether he died or not. And until he could move out, that was enough. He would have to live with Dean’s disgust, no matter his own affections.

-

_The heat had eaten at Castiel’s skin harshly, it was red raw with sunburn and blistering. Dean thanked God (or…. Someone that CARED) that the hick farmers that found him were kind. When Dean arrived, 11 hours after the call, Cas was asleep on a camp bed in the Barn._

_He looked peaceful, vulnerable…human. Dean felt his eyes prick with relief. At least he wasn’t_ dead _. There were a lot worse things he could be than human._

 _Dean watched Cas’s face change from disgruntled ache to tearful relief as he awoke to see Dean, to feel a hand on his shoulder. Together they grabbed each other, melting into a hug. Dean held on as tightly as he could, trying to let himself believe that this was real, that Cas was alright. He smelled of dirt and the skin of his shoulder was burning hot against Dean’s face. But he was_ here _and he was_ real _and Dean finally allowed himself to cry._

_Dean carried Cas out to the car, gently sitting him in the front seat and setting a blanket over him. He turned back to the farmers,  
“Thanks, uh, for taking care of him for a bit”, he grumbled, throat still tight with emotion.  
Withered eyes glared back at him from underneath a weather-beaten straw hat, “Take better care of your partner there. It ain’t right him wanderin’ out there all alone like that. You take better care of him, he’s beaten’ up in all ways”  
He stared at the man in shock, “I didn’t do this to him”  
“You get goin’ now”, the man grumbled, a warning edge to his voice. _

_Under the flashing glow of car headlights Cas was quite beautiful. He was fragile cheekbones and sunburn blisters, skin roughened and his face twisted with grief. But underneath his eyes were still rich sapphire. He was still the powerful Cas of before; of now; of forever.  
And he was entirely delicate. _

_His appearance didn’t strike Dean as any woman’s had before, no._ They _were a heat in his belly and fire on his tongue.  
Looking at Cas was the grandeur of religion. The fresh green splendour of a tree in a forgotten forest. Looking down at the Grand Canyon and knowing that it was infinitely more vast, more great, infinitely more complex, and infinitely more phenomenal than you could begin to imagine. That’s what looking at Cas was. Maybe it was the uncertainty, the missing him, or the rush of joy at seeing him, but Dean was seeing Cas as he never had before, and it was immense. _

_It wasn’t till he was an hour onto the highway, staring at the blanket curled bundle of Cas that he realised that that man called Cas his partner, and he hadn’t even noticed.  
Surely that was meant that in the platonic sense. That man _surely _couldn’t have thought…. Anyway, he had to keep driving. 10 hours to go._

-

No matter how much Dean wanted to avoid him, Sam was right. He’d have to talk to Cas at some point. Maybe, with time, Dean could even handle being friends with him again.  
Dean figured, being newly human and all, Cas might like to know how to do some human things. (Doing an activity would stop them _actually_ having to talk or look at each other… and maybe Dean liked that aspect a bit too much).

After pacing his room for far too long, Dean knocked on Cas’s door for the second time that evening.

Cas opened the door shirtless, in chequered pyjama bottoms, his eyes still glued to the pages of his book.

 _Fuck_ , Dean thought, appraising him with hungry eyes, _maybe I can’t do this._

“Dean?”

Dean quickly looked up, meeting Cas’s eyes (and wishing he hadn’t… _Fuck,_ those eyes).

“Tomorrow. 9am. Laundry room. You’re gonna learn to be a _useful_ human”   
Dean had been aiming for humourous, easy-breezy, but his nervousness had thwarted that for him, instead veering him into the realm of aggressive. He mentally cursed himself.

Cas just blinked back at him.

“Okay?”

Dean’s gaze couldn’t seem to drift from Cas’s. There was something in them that there never used to be. A cold, empty sort of sadness. Maybe it was the losing connection with his entire race. Maybe it was that it was Dean’s eyes he was staring into. Maybe he had realised what the other man desperately craved. Maybe he was disgusted with him. Maybe he just hated him.  
_I’ve been staring at him too long,_ Dean realised in a panic, his heart racing, _He’s going to think I’m a creep!_

Cas was the one who finally broke the stare, looking back at his book. He turned to step back into his room.

 _This can’t be the end already!_ “Uhh, what you reading?”

“Wuthering Heights,” He said, eyes not averting from his book, “Sam recommended it for me.”

Dean wrung his hands awkwardly, “What’s it about then?”

Cas looked up at Dean again, blue eyes seemingly search for something in his green, “Sam said it was ‘two assholes in love, torturing each other because they don’t show it’”

“Sounds depressing.”

“It seems to be so far.”

This moment of silence was less tense. They stared at each other. Dean wished he could read Cas’s mind.

“Goodnight, Dean”

“Goodnight, Cas”


	2. this was a lucky idea of mine, indeed!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anticipation. Short and Sweet.

[ Four dead by animal attack in Kings Creek Park. Rangers are still trying to identify the animal responsible. Alicia Goldstein, Harry Jones, Norbert Potter, and Ivan Preach were vibrant pillars of the community, especially in the Clear-Water Church community. Accounts from family members and friends on pg 17. All four had hearts removed as well as other confounding details. Officials are urging forensic animal experts to come forward.]

Sam circled his paper in thick red pen and sat it back down on the table. _Second find of the day,_ he thought, _not too shabby._ His dawn runs were making him a productive man.

-

Cas woke up at 6:30am. His body was running on 90% adrenaline. _Why_ did Dean want to do this?

Cas supposed it was due to his newly human state- Dean couldn’t stand having a useless Castiel around the bunker and was showing him how to live alone so he could kick him out with no guilt. Well, if _that_ was Dean’s opinion, Cas was going to make sure he’d be out of his goddamn hair as fast as he could.

The rational part of Cas understood why Dean hated him. He’d beat him to a bloody pulp, then disappeared. He’d been duped due to his naivety. He’d put Dean, Sam, and Kevin in danger, only to then destroy his entire race. To become pathetic and useless. To become human. To top it off he’d made Dean come rescue him when it was Cas’s vulnerability that had put him in that barn. It really was no wonder they hadn’t been in the same room in months.

But still…. There was a small defiant whisper from the irrational parts of Cas’s brain. It would come to him when he was at his very lowest, offering quiet resistance. How many times had Cas saved Dean? Saved Sam? Saved them all? How many times had Cas come when Dean called? He’d started rebelling the moment he saw Dean’s vibrant soul in hell. He’d gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. He’d questioned everything he’d ever known. He’d risked it all. He’d never stopped fighting. Everything he’d ever done was a dedicated soliloquy to the name and lifeforce of Dean Winchester and all that was good.   
And with this, Dean consistently rejected him, pushed him out, pushed him away, and now… couldn’t even stand Cas’s pathetic presence. These irrational parts of Cas’s brain were, surprisingly, angry. Most of his brain was enveloped in misery, the other parts buzzing with unbridled resentful rage. The melancholy combination was exhausting.

Perhaps his current reading material was teaching him that care wasn’t destruction. Maybe lights that burned bright would flicker and distort, warping to something that would blind them both. Reading Catherine and Heathcliff destroy each other laid his situation out far too plainly. Anytime Castiel acted out of care for Dean, or the people he loved, _something_ would go wrong and cause some sort of apocalypse again. Perhaps their profound bond _should_ be and _had_ been cauterised. Maybe this was _it_ for them.

Cas entered the kitchen right as the clock hit 7. He was still in his jammies.   
Kevin was sat at the table. He had headphones in and a blanket round his shoulders. A laptop sat on the table, playing a TV show with colours far too loud to see before coffee.

Kevin jumped at the sight of Cas, sending a startled glimpse to the back of Dean’s head, who was standing against the counter, not noticing Cas’s arrival. Cas could feel his heartbeat in his head. _Stupid nerves_.   
Kevin’s face was blank. Cas suspected he was anticipating hostility between the two older men.

“Uh… Morning, Cas.” Kevin stuttered.

Dean choked on his coffee.   
Cas knew he wasn’t his biggest fan right now, but surely gagging at his presence was a _bit_ far.

“Good morning, Kevin,” Cas said, tone clipped, “Are you enjoying your cartoon?”  
“Uh, yeah...” Kevin trailed off, seeing Dean turn around to face the pair at the table.   
“You never wake up this early,” Dean interrupted.   
Cas studied the tense expression on his face, before replying, “I have an activity today. I haven’t had one before.”

This seemed to stump Dean.   
_Good!_ the defiant voice in Cas brain whispered, _He should know how much you’ve lost!_

_Or how pointless your life is now._

Cas shook his head to dispel the thoughts. Dean and Kevin were staring at him now. He suspected he’d missed something during his mental pity party.

“I said, you want a coffee?” Dean grumbled.   
Cas stared at him. Dean was doing something nice for him? Maybe today would be different indeed.   
“Yes, Please” Cas whispered, “Uh black…”  
“Two sugars” Dean finished, “I know”

Dean met his eyes again. Cas wondered how on _earth_ he knew that.

-

Kevin looked across the table between them. Fucking hell, the staring was back.

He’d had a couple months reprieve from the odd intensity between them. Cas falling from grace, something weird happening between them the night Cas got picked up, Dean being huffy and Cas being a recluse had made _that_ happen. Dean and Cas’s friendship was a jigsaw puddle without all the pieces, and Kevin wasn’t going to be the one to solve it. Nah. Kevin stuck to his Adventure Time and his Poptarts and that was ENOUGH.

Kevin coughed awkwardly, “So, uh do you guys need me to leave? Cause this is just… weird and kind of uncomfortable.”

“Nah man, we’re good.” Dean broke his stare and turned to the fridge, “Since the whole fuckin’ gang is here, I’m making pancakes.”

His nodded his head affirmative, but under the table he was frantically texting Sam.   
- _I don’t know wht happened or what u’ve done, but they’re acc talking. Report to the ktchn._

-

8:45

Dean hands were shaking as he carried the laundry baskets from each room.

8:55

He lined up the soaps on top of the machines. He set them in order of use. He re-ordered them by easiest explaining. He switched them back.

8:57

He wiped his sweaty palms against the coarse fabric of his jeans.

8:59

_What if he doesn’t show up? Maybe you’ve done what you intended. Maybe he never wants to fuckin’ speak to you again, asshat. Maybe Sam was wrong and he won’t want to see you at all. Maybe this’ll just make things worse._

9:00

KNOCK KNOCK

_Well, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short! but i wanted to flesh out some ideas for the next couple chapters, and very much like the idea of Cas having a bit of anger in him! Hopefully you all still enjoyed it. Kudos and comments very much appreciated! I also encourage constructive criticism lol. thank u for reading! <3

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic so i'd love any feedback!! v nervous posting this especially since all my new/refresher info on SPN has been from fanfics oops  
> i KNOW wuthering heights is not a love story, that will be addressed if i continue this lol  
> also idk how to format so if this looks shit pls tell me  
> thank uuuuuu <3


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